Saturday
by crearealidad
Summary: Brennan invites Booth unexpectedly to join her for breakfast and they have pie... then explore with their sense of taste...
1. Breakfast

I was about to enter the diner when I noticed she was already inside

**Title: **Saturday

**Author:** Crearealidad

**Rating: **T/PG-13

**Spoilers/Warnings:** none here

**Summary:** Brennan invites Booth unexpectedly to join her for breakfast and they have pie.

**Disclaimer:** These characters do not belong to me, nor does the diner, or any other recognizable stories or back plot. I don't know the people who make Bones and they don't know me. No copyright infringement is intended with this piece.

--

I was about to enter the diner when I noticed she was already inside. She was sitting alone, fanning herself impatiently. Her eyes were bright and wide and her face was flushed. I watched, fascinated, as her teeth bit down delicately on her lower lip. Grabbing for her water, she took a long drink, eyes glancing around. The site of it stopped me in my tracks.

Once she put down her water glass, I watched her try to regain her composure, pushing back her hair, folding her hands together neatly on the table. But apparently whatever had her agitated would not be abated and she was fidget again in a moment. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips repeatedly, making my breath catch in my throat. She looked down at herself, examining the snug t-shirt she was wearing and tugged at it, adjusting the way it fit over her breasts.

My curiosity was firmly in place when I finally opened the door to the diner and entered. She saw me immediately and as those overly bright blue eyes snagged my gaze, she licked her lips once more, leaving them parted to take what looked to be a shaky breath. As I approached the table, I tried not to notice that her eyes were sweeping down me, appraising me in a way that had nothing to do with her usual observant, but detached attention.

"Bones, you okay?" I asked, sliding into the booth next to her. She didn't move to make room, leaving me pressed to her side and hanging slightly off the end of the bench. When my thigh made contact with hers, I could feel the heat radiating there.

She turned to look at me. "I'm fine, Booth. Just a little warm. I decided to walk over here from the metro since we're not in any hurry."

I was surprised to see the blush on her face darken as I smiled at her. When she averted her eyes after a moment, I knew something was going on. "So…"

"I already ordered us coffee, I hope that's okay. I was going to go ahead and order you some pie, but it's pretty early for pie. We can order food when they bring us our coffee…" Her voice trailed off as I put a hand on hers.

"Sounds good. To what do I owe the honor of this early morning invitation to breakfast? I mean, it is a Saturday," I asked, unable to tear my eyes away from her hand, which had turned over, pressing her palm to mine to twine our fingers together.

She slid further into the booth then, keeping me closely in tow. Her hand was exceptionally warm and her fingers kept drumming against the back of my hand as she spoke, "Normally, I like to get out of my apartment on Saturdays for breakfast on my own. Nothing fancy, usually just some fruit, granola, or a bagel. This morning, I remembered you saying that you didn't have Parker this weekend and I thought you might like to have some company."

The waitress arrived then with our coffee, gently setting our cups before us. We quickly ordered and then I turned back to face her, studying her for a moment before responding to her explanation, "Did Angela put you up to this?"

The ever nosy friend had accidentally overheard my conversation with Rebecca the day before. I'd been quite upset that Rebecca had signed Parker up for a weekend sports camp without telling me and I'd noticed Angela's sympathetic gaze and abrupt departure when I revealed that I had turned down an invitation because I thought I was going to be with Parker all weekend. It had been a childish lie, but I knew such a juicy detail would not have escaped Angela's curious observance.

"No. Why do you ask? I haven't had time to talk to her much at all this week. She's been buried in a mountain of identifications that came in from a cemetery flood in Iowa earlier this week." She withdrew her hand from mine to take a drink of her coffee.

"It's nothing. She overheard a fight I had with Rebecca the other day and she had that look in her eye…"

I was surprised when she grinned broadly and appeared to be holding back laughter. "I know that look. But no, I just remembered you were alone for the weekend and thought I should invite you to… you know, breakfast," she explained, gesturing to the table at our coffee cups.

The blush that had finally subsided was reignited by her words. It started at the neckline of her soft blue t-shirt and spread upward like pink smoke swirling. I was fascinated by the sight of her: Dr. Temperance Brennan is not easy to embarrass and I wasn't even trying. Whatever was rolling around in that head of hers had to be a doozey.

I didn't realize until she squirmed away slightly that I had been staring unabashedly at her chest and throat. Her hand brushed up to slide over the places where my gaze had been.

"Stop staring, Booth. You're making me uncomfortable."

"Sorry, not fully awake," I said, shaking my head to fake drowsiness. "This should help though," I continued, lifting my cup in a mock-toast before taking a drink and dragging my eyes away from her.

I tried to keep my eyes elsewhere. Glancing around impatiently, I feigned a hunt for our waitress. Then I felt a hand settle on my shoulder, bringing my gaze to a halt and catching my breath in my throat. It slid down my arm and settled on my own, curling slightly to squeeze my fingers.

"Booth, since it's Saturday and there isn't a case, can I ask you something personal?" Her question was so tentative and quiet that it shook me.

"You know you can, Bones. It's not like work or a case ever really stopped you before."

"But I want an answer, without jokes or fighting."

My eyes came back to her face, stunned by the fear that seemed to cling to her familiar features. I turned my hand over, taking hold of hers fully in encouragement, telling her, "Go ahead. I'll do my best not to be an ass."

That made her let out a little nervous laughter, ducking her head to hide the resurgence of that blush. When her eyes came back up, she seemed to have calmed some of her anxiety. "You're not an ass, Booth. I probably deserve most of what I get. I don't always know when to stop pushing…" After a moment of hesitation, she release her question with all the strength of a sucker-punch to the gut: "Do you ever get lonely, Booth?"

When I didn't respond, she continued her assault, her voice growing rough and nearly breaking as she spoke, "I mean, I know you have Parker but you don't see him as often as you'd like, I know. And you never mention friends or dates or even hobbies. And I wondered if maybe you know what's wrong with me. Why lately I can't seem to… The things that once made me feel fulfilled don't seem to… since we met—I…" Her words dissolved and before she dropped her head to her chest, I could see the tears forming in her eyes.

The grip she had on my hand had become nearly painful as she clung to the contact. I struggled to absorb the litany of revelations she had just spilled all over the table.

"Bones," I began tugging her hand until I could wrap my other hand around the embrace. "Of course I'm lonely sometimes. It's a consequence of loving our jobs, being what they are." She leaned against my shoulder, listening intently to my words. I could feel her warmth breath though my t-shirt as she struggled to calm herself. "We invest our time and our energy in our work by choice because we recognize the importance of it. We are passionate what we do, each for our own reasons. Our emotions are wrapped up in our jobs and the people who share our passions, who help us get our job done. Before we know it, that world becomes all we have. But as we grow, we realize what we're missing by not cultivating our relationships, what we lose by making our choice."

My heart ached as I heard her sniffle and slowly pull herself away from me, bringing her eyes up to meet my gaze. The redness in her cheeks now was vastly different from the delicate pink that had tinged her face just a few minutes earlier. My hand came to her cheek, trying to sooth the angry blotches there. She leaned into my hand then, nearly nuzzling me and I thought I caught the barest hint of a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth.

Her voice sounded harsh and tight when she spoke once more. "It used to be easy to fight this. I had no family, not many friends beyond work, I dated but it never lasted long. Work satisfied me. The pursuit of gathering evidence always enveloped me so completely, nothing else could interfere, not even loneliness. Angela always understood that about me, but most people don't. She felt the same way about her art. It's how we've remained friends as long as we have. But then along came Russ, and my dad, and you…"

Once again, her words faded away, but this time I could see her considering something. The hand that had been on her cheek moved to tuck a stray bit of auburn hair back, my finger brushing the edge of her ear, eliciting a sharp gasp. She bit down on her lower lip, pulling it to one side, eyeing me with narrowed eyes. I was about to pull her into a hug, when our plate began appearing on the table.

Startled, we both turned to face the waitress, who was obviously trying to contain a smirk as she distributed our meal. Before she left the waitress winked at me and said, "Let me know when you're ready for some pie, sweetie. Got a fresh apple pie in the oven, should be ready by the time y'all are finishin' up."

When the waitress retreated, I turned to face Bones, who was trying unsuccessfully to stifle her laughter. "What's so funny?" I growled.

"I think you've got an addiction, Booth. I've never seen that waitress before, meaning she's probably new. The others must've let her in on the key to getting a decent tip out of you: Pie. I'll bet they've even got a nickname for you."

The smile on her face floored me, but it was the hand that moved to pay my thigh that made my throat catch. Clearing my throat, I responded defensively, "They wouldn't do that. I don't come in here that often."

"Booth. I was a waitress once. Trust me, these girls have a name for you. The look your face when you take that first bite… Just believe me. You're memorable. I wouldn't be surprised if they put that pie in just for you when they saw me arrive."

Her playful gaze danced over my face, quite possibly focusing on my mouth and I was quickly cursing my own skin for its traitorous blush. Forcing the scowl back on my face, I picked up my fork and stabbed into my eggs, taking a bite and chewing, refusing to meet her gaze. Swallowing, I attempted to change the subject, asking her, "You were a waitress, Bones? I always had you pegged for a full-ride scholarship kid."

She laughed again at that. "I was, but scholarships don't cover things like clothes and pens and paper. Coming out of the foster care system, I didn't have much. So until I gained enough knowledge to earn myself a job as a lab technician, I waited tables at an all-night diner."

"Did you wear one of those cute little aprons?" I asked, the question escaping unbidden. I tried to picture her at eighteen. She probably hadn't fully filled out yet, mostly arms and legs, dressed in a uniform shirt that didn't quite fit her right and tight slacks with an apron cinched around her trim waist.

Shaking her head, she poured some milk into her oatmeal, stirring it in before taking a bite. "Yeah, but it wasn't small. It was one of the ones with a bib, pink, with these horrible ruffles around the edge."

In an instant, that frilly apron appeared on my previously sexy Temperance waitress and I broke out in a fit of laughter. I could see her disgust at the tackiness of it as I mourned the sudden shielding of her imaginary form.

I turned back to my plate, still chuckling occasionally at the thought of it as I dug back into my food. From the corner of my eye, I watched her, curious if I would see a return of our abandoned conversation, but we finished our food in relative silence, until the waitress returned to ask if I was ready for my pie. I'd nodded tersely and turned back towards Bones, who hissed under her breath, "They so call you something, Booth. See the other two? They're watching you from the backroom."

I sighed heavily, refusing to acknowledge my awareness of the two faces staring at me. When the waitress returned with my slice of pie, I found myself staring at it, suddenly self-conscious.

"Bones…" I said, waiting for her to turn to look at me. "What do I do when I eat pie? I mean, you said I make a face…"

I was shocked to see her blush once again, before trying to shrug it off. "I don't know, it's just a face." When I glanced at her skeptically, she continued, "You just… You look like… Like you really enjoy it. Sometimes you close your eyes. And when you're done, you… you lick your lips."

"Can't a guy enjoy his pie? Why is that so 'memorable' as you put it?"

She avoided my eyes then and it hit me. She was saying that there was something sexual about my expression. I was speechless, but my mouth opened in an attempt to voice my realization. I cleared my throat, but before I could speak, she fairly pushed me out of the booth, muttering something about the restroom. I tried to hop out of her way as she brushed past me, headed for the restroom.

I was left stunned.

She was aroused. Her sudden departure only served to cement my belief. The thought made me wonder about her earlier agitation when I'd first arrived. Certainly, there was something more going on her than she'd admitted to.

Looking down at my pie, I considered taking a bite, but decided that needed to wait until she returned. I wanted confirmation. As I sat my fork down on the plate, I caught the fallen expressions of the still peering faces.

Unable to resist, I grinned at the ladies and gestured to Bones' vacant seat. I caught their laughter floating faintly from the back room as they disappeared. My confidence swelled and when Bones finally returned from the restroom, my grin was beyond control.

I stood to let her back in and she took her seat quickly, glancing suspiciously from me to the still untouched slice of pie.

"Aren't you going to eat your pie, Booth?" She asked finally when I took my seat next to her.

"I am… I am… But first…" I picked up my fork, cutting a bite from the end. I lifted the fork towards her, putting a hand beneath the precarious piece just in case. "First you are going to try a bite."

She shook her head firmly. "I told you, Booth, I don't—" I pushed the fork towards her open lips and she took the bite, possibly only to avoid the stab of the prongs. A bit of filling dribbled down her lip as she chewed, her eyes actually lighting up as she swallowed, a slow smile coming to her lips. Her tongue swept out to swipe up the lost filling, leaving her lip deliciously shining and moist.

I clamped my mouth shut when I realized that I was gawking. My own arousal was stirring as she smacked those lips into a satisfied smile. "That was actually quite good, Booth. Tart, not nearly as sweet as I expected."

I chuckled as she licked her lips once more. Behind me, I could feel those eyes from the backroom bearing down on me. "Now, it's my turn." I took the fork and extended it to her.

It was her turn to be stunned. "What—?"

"I fed you a bite. Now you gotta feed me," I teased, once against thrusting the fork in her direction, scooting the plate towards her.

Those eyes were struggling to dissect my expression, so suspiciously that I nearly laughed at her. At this point, her blush seemed to be permanently painted on every inch of her skin, showing no sign of dissipating.

Reluctantly, she took the fork from my hand and cut a piece for me. As she lifted it gingerly to my lips, I caught her eye and licked my lips in anticipation. Her eyes quickly darted to focus on my lips as I opened them to allow the pie entrance. I tasted the sharp metal of the fork first and closed my lips down to seal in the pie. The sweet filling hit my tongue next, hot and spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg. She withdrew the fork slowly and I took the bite, the flaky sweet crust came next to my taste buds. As I bit down on the small bite, a soft tart apple exploded across my tongue, making me let out a little groan of pleasure at it's fresh, warm flavor. I chewed slowly, letting the tastes mingle in my mouth. I could feel her shifting next to me on the bench and I let my tongue slip out to check for traces of taste on my lips.

I finished chewing and swallowing, opening my eyes to find hers riveted to my face. "Umm… Booth…" she said, her voice barely more than a ragged whisper. "That's the face. Right there."

I could see her breath coming in short gasps as I asked teasingly, "You like?"

"The pie? Yes. I told you—"

"No, my face."

"I was just point out that—"

"Temperance. You're grinning like an idiot."

I regretted my comment immediately when she stole the brilliant smile from her lips, but was gratified to see that it was still clinging tremulously to the corners of her mouth. Her eyes still hadn't wavered from my face and she was so close that I could see the pattern of indigo swirls in her irises and feel the warmth of her breath teasing my lips.

"Incredible," I murmured, the word escaping me before I could stop it. My whole body felt her hand make contact with my knee and tightened at the heat her touch brought.

"What's incredible? The pie?"

I rolled my eyes at her obvious avoidance as her eyebrows furrowed into a crease of concentration. For a moment, I considered correcting her, but I didn't want her to stop looking at me like I was something warm, sweet and sticky that she was dying to taste. "Yeah, Bones. The pie," I said, the sarcasm dripping from my lips.

Her lips began quivering as the hand on my knee drifted upward a few inches, her fingers tightening slightly. I felt my pants tightening, growing increasingly uncomfortable. I tried to subtly shift myself into a more comfortable position, finally settling as I suddenly realized that there was another bite of pie dangling in front of my face. A single slice of apple, coated in sticky syrup was pinched between her delicate fingers just inches from my lips.

I glanced from the apple to her face, which still remained fully under her tight control. "Take another bite, Booth, the ladies are watching…" she teased. After another moment of consideration, I leaned in, using my tongue to draw the soft fruit into my mouth, brushing her fingertips in the process. I suck it fully into my mouth, biting down and tasting the tart explosion of juice in my mouth as I observed that her fingers, still coated in golden syrup were still lingering near my lips. Once I swallowed, I couldn't stop my lips from enveloping those sugar-coated fingers in my mouth, my tongue rolling over them like ice cream, or perhaps something warmer. Her lips parted slightly as I held her thumb in her mouth as my eyes came up to meet hers. I held there for a long moment, laving my tongue over the tip, savoring the taste of her I'd found beneath all that sticky syrup, still tinged in spice.

I released her with a resounding 'pop'.

At some point, the hand that had been on my lower thigh had dragged itself staggeringly close to my erection and I was dumbfounded at the sight of her as she brought her finger, still wet from my mouth, to her lips, placing a lingering kiss there.

Suddenly, our world shattered when the waitress leaned in to gather our plates, muttering something about a to-go box for the pie before disappearing as quickly as she had appeared.

Bones had returned to her seat, the hand that had been burning its way up my thigh now pushing stray hairs back from her face. I squirmed uncomfortably, knowing there was no position that was going to offer any semblance of relief now. I ached as I watched her pull out her wallet in silence, extracting more than enough money for the bill, refusing to even glance my way.

The waitress returned, quickly dropping my to-go box and the check on the end of the table, her pale face burning as red as tomato.

"I've um… got to go, Booth. I have… I'm supposed to meet Angela—" She said, as she stood, the words bubbling out of her.

"Take this," I said, handing her the small Styrofoam container.

"It's yours, Booth."

"But you liked it. And you don't like pie. So I want you to have it."

Shyly, she averted her eyes, but accepted my offering as I let her slide out of the booth. She turned and set the money on the table next to the bill. For a moment, she paused, then pulled an additional five from her wallet, laying it down as well.

"That's a pretty extravagant tip, Bones."

She laughed slightly and replied, "They deserve it." I watched her turn to leave, noting the slight wavering in her stride as she moved. At the door, she stopped, turned back and looked at me. "Booth… do you… We could have dinner. Tonight, if you want."

I nodded. "I'll pick you up. Six okay?"

She nodded, "Six. I'll be at home."

With that, she exited the diner, leaving me feeling very alone, despite the fact that her taste was still lingering on my tongue along side the cinnamon and apples.

--

End Note: What kind of fic writer would I be if I ignore the whole pie thing? Let me know what you think because it makes me smile.

Side: I really need to stop writing these fics in public places. This one was written on a very busy coffee shop patio with people all around. I'm just glad my sunburn was hiding the wicked blush I was sporting while writing this… I'm starting to think I may be some kind of literary exhibitionist. I'm just daring people to read my smut over my shoulder now.


	2. Afternoon

Title: Saturday Afternoon (Sequel to Saturday )

**Title: **Saturday Afternoon (Sequel to Saturday** )  
Author:** Crearealidad  
**Rating: **T/PG-13  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** none here  
**Summary:** Booth stops by to invite her out for a Lucy, but they never make it out.  
**Disclaimer:** These characters do not belong to me, nor does the diner, or any other recognizable stories or back plot. I don't know the people who make Bones and they don't know me. No copyright infringement is intended with this piece.

Author's Note: I know this is a few days later than anticipated. I've been kinda out of it with a touch of the flu. But all is well and I've got a four updates that will be ready by Saturdayish, pending no major beta-battles. Thank you to Becca, one more fanfic virgin I've brought into my little game.

"The Lucy": A spicy cocoa drink sold at ACKC's that contains chocolate, chipotle spices and cinnamon. It sounds weird. Then you try it. Hot, kinky sex in a mug.

"I wasn't expecting you for another two hours."

I wasn't quite sure what to make of him when he arrived exceptionally early for what should have been dinner. It wasn't even four yet and there he was in the doorway, still wearing the same clothes he'd had on earlier, his breath still tinged with the aroma of coffee. For some reason, I'd expected him polished, slightly more smooth than charm.

But as I stepped aside to allow him to enter, he turned around, passing me, to walk backwards as he explained, "Have you ever been to ACKC's?"

"What are you talking about Booth?" I asked, my eyes narrowing at his mischievous grin. His backwards entrance came to halt a few yards into my living room and I closed the door, turning the lock.

"Surely you like chocolate, right?"

I moved past him, resuming the position I'd been in before he'd interrupted me. I'd been attempting to concentrate on an article in my latest anthropological journal. The article was discussing new techniques for analyzing the mineral content of bone in order to determine an individual's origin. I'd been meaning to read it all week, but work had kept me more than adequately occupied. I quickly found, however, that it couldn't hold my interest for more than a few moments. I was far too distracted.

I blame it all on my dream.

It's rare that I awaken with any conscious memory of the activity that occurred in my brain during my unconscious hours, but this morning I'd risen early and with a distinct memory of touch. Heat had blossomed across my skin with surprising alacrity as it recalled the imagined press of strong fingers arching as they dragged furrows down the flesh of my back. Before I had even caught my breath, I found myself dialing his number, desperate to dispel the passionate touch with the infuriating reality of him before dawn.

But the voice which greeted me had been inches the graveled murmurs that had accompanied his nocturnal ministrations and only served to encourage the replay to continue in more vivid sensory details. When he'd pushed to find out why I had called, I found myself inviting him to join me for my usual Saturday morning ritual, unable to come up with anything more plausible at such an early hour while under a barrage of distractions.

"Booth why are you here?"

"I missed you," he teased, his hand on my shoulder rocking me gently. "And Angela called... She was trying to locate you, said you were answering your phone. I thought the two of you had plans?"

"If I had told you that I was anxious to get some reading done you would have tried to drag me out to some place and unnecessarily reminded me that it was the weekend." I retorted, trying to ignore his arm, which he had draped casually across the back of the couch just barely brushing my shoulders.

"You told a fib? Bones! If I weren't so hurt by your obvious aversion to spending time with me outside of work and coffee, I'd almost be impressed," he said, chuckling softly as turned his face to look at me, his eyes narrowing as though he were trying to read my features. With a heavy sigh, he reclined deeper into the seat and continued, "You always surprise me. Never a dull moment."

His hand bent to cup my shoulder and immediately I could feel those fingers as they'd been on my bare flesh; hot, insistent, patient. Gently, I squirmed from his grasp and adjusted my journal in my lap, smoothing the pages to signal that I was fully prepare to continue my reading.

"Hey, I came over to force you out of the house... Put that thing away..." he whined, snatching the pages from my lap and tossing them lightly to the floor.

"Booth! I was reading that." With a grunt, I leaned forward, feeling his eyes on me as I move. They've zeroed in on my lower back and I shoot him a glare. He's oblivious.

"Stop staring," I snapped, exasperated. His gaze already feeling like fingers kneading and skin was trembling beneath them.

This game made me recall how he'd tricked me earlier into feeding him pie. He was always cajoling me into his childish games, much like the one he was playing with the journal, but the one this morning had been entirely different. He'd handed me that fork with intentions painted in that knowing grin. Once he'd figured out how I reacted to watching his mouth as he ate pie, the battle was on. With each movement he'd teased me, licking his lips and smiling with every inch of his oh-so-pleased expression.

He was surprised maybe even a bit frightened when I'd given in to the desire to feel that mouth on my skin. I'd lifted my fingers to his lips with that soft, sugar-coated slice of apple pinched in my fingertips and waited. It took a moment, but eventually he realized that I was quite serious, and those tempting lips had sucked tightly around the apple and my fingers, deliciously sending bolts of excitement through me as his tongue slipped over me. I was shaking and it was nearly impossible to keep myself seated when all I wanted to do was run. In those brief moments, the entire dream had come crashing down on me and I could feel his fingers driving over my skin, seeking out all of the places they'd never touched before. It wasn't until the waitress appeared that I realized that my own hand had ended up on his thigh, so close to the heat of his erection that I could practically feel it hardening.

I'm fighting that same impulse now, wanting to run as I feel his gaze work its way back up to my face, but not before they got snagged on my breasts. My body was begging him to replace that gaze with touch and before I could stop myself, I asked, "Why do you look at me that way?"

I resettled my journal on my lap, pretending to read in order to avoid his gaze.

"I don't look at you any certain way. And I most certainly wasn't staring."

Looking up at him now I saw the blush catching his cheeks. "Yes, you were. And if I'm not mistaken, that look was directed at my ass," I retorted matter-of-factly.

"Awww… C'mon Bones. I'm a guy. We look. A beautiful woman bends over… It's just what we do. And I was serious about this…" He grabbed the journal once more, flipping it closed to read the title. "Durham Anthropology Journal. You know, Bones, when a man offers a woman chocolate, normal women accept. They don't try to go back to their scholarly reading."

I leaned towards him, trying to grab the journal back from him, but when he jerks his hand out away from me, I clumsily landed a hand on his thigh once again, eliciting a rough sound from his throat. Immediately, I drew my hand back and crossed my arms, pointing out, "You didn't _offer_ chocolate, Booth. You merely asked if I enjoyed it."

He covered with his face with his hand, dragging it down slowly to bring it to the base of his neck, letting it hang there for a long moment before dropping it onto his thigh. "You know, I went to the lab first?"

"Huh?"

"When Angela said she couldn't get a hold of you, I assumed you'd be at the lab. And I was actually really worried when I didn't find you there."

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't live at the lab, Booth." I replied softly,

"I know. I'm learning. But you seemed… upset earlier. Usually when you're trying to get through something, you end up at work. It helps you get a better look at the situation," he told me, reaching out to take my hand. I looked up but found that his head was slightly bowed and he was watching the quiet interlocking of our hands.

"I thought about it you know. Going to the lab... You know me too well, Booth." He let out a huff of breath that sounded like a silent laugh. "Am I really that easy to figure out?."

We sat in silence for a few long minutes while he considered my question, still not releasing my hand. He finally looked up to find me watching him and I can feel the blush spreading across my cheeks when it makes him smile to see me there. "Never. You're never easy." His voice was harsh against my ears, sadder than anticipated and made my chest constrict unexpectedly.

"But you're always finding me, Booth. Even when I don't know why I'm doing something, you have an enviable ability to predict my behavior."

"Lots of trial and error, Bones. Trust me. Unless it's a case. Then I just need to figure out where you'd get in the most trouble…"

At that I laughed, my head coming to rest against his shoulder and he brought the journal back to my lap. "Thank you," I said softly without lifting my head from its rest. He laughed and I realized he thought that I mean the journal. Picking it up, I toss it onto the coffee table. "Not for this, though I am glad you gave it up."

"Then for what?" He asked, drawing my eyes to his to find he was serious.

Shaking my head, I explained, "For always finding me. For knowing what to say. I know I don't always… say certain things correctly. I'm not really good at this you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"Booth!" I cried in mock annoyance. His arm swooped around my hip to hold me in place. "Am I really that bad at connecting?" My words seemed to topple out in response to his touch and I immediately stiffened, having not intended to allow those thoughts a voice. But his forearm was pressed against my back and his fingers were igniting my skin with memories of our imagined intimacy.

"You connect just fine with me…" he replied, his free hand coming to my cheek to turn my face upwards. I could feel him reading them as I struggled not to look away, for fear of what might be showing. "The words may get confused, but your intent isn't lost, Bones. The people who care about you, me and the squints… We get that."

His eyes found my lips then and they parted unwittingly for him. The hand on my cheek found its way to the back of my neck, teasing the small hairs there. For a moment, I feared I had allowed the dream to manifest itself as those fingers began to kneed the tense muscles at the base of my neck. I could feel the heat from his body warming me from where my knee touched his up to my lips where his eyes were still making a decision.

My eyes fell to his lips when his tongue emerged to wet them. He swallowed roughly and murmured, "Bones, I…"

But his thoughts were destroyed when his phone went off in his pocket between us, sending us into motion like a fire alarm. I leapt to my feet and he jerked himself to the side in order to dig the phone from his pocket.

"Seeley Booth," he answered, his breath catching as he ducked his head to speak.

Stepping back, I gasped for air as I turned away from him to hide the blush that stained my face. My body was heavy and hot with my arousal as I listened to him.

"Yeah, I found her… Durham Anthropology Journal… I'm trying to convince her… Yeah, thanks Angela. I'll try to remember that… All right, have fun." Hanging up his phone then, I heard him stand, then he came towards me.

"You okay, Bones? You look a little…" he teased.

"The phone just started me," I explained weakly, moving towards the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink? I need some water," I asked, hoping he would remain in the living room. I needed space to cool down.

I felt as though I might catch fire if I didn't get this under control. The dream was fast becoming entangled with his actual touch and I wasn't prepared for the implications of that. The want was catching in my throat as I reached up to pull down a glass from the cupboard and then pressed it against the button on the ice dispenser. With a clatter, the glass filled with ice and I pulled it away and moved to fill the glass with water at the sink, but paused before turning on the tap.

Impulsively, I reached into the glass and withdrew an ice cube and brought it to my heated cheek. It began to melt immediately, dripping cool relief down my face. Gliding it over my face, I lingered on my lips, the cold soothing excitement that had risen there. Next I trailed it down to my throat, tilting my head back to bring it to where my pulse was racing the beneath the skin. Unbidden, I was overwhelmed by the sudden sensation of his lips sucking the melted drips from my skin as a shuddering moan escaped my still wet lips.

Suddenly the ice wasn't enough. I could hear him echoing my own mind as he kissed my throat.

My eyes fell shut as I imagined his lips sucking their way down my throat, nudging their way down the neckline of my t-shirt before coming back up to nibble at the skin just below my ear, soft suckling sounds mixed with contented moans.

But then came the sound of my name, dragged from his throat with a very real presence. I realized suddenly that his answering moans hadn't been imagined or remembered. My head snapped up and my eyes flew open to find him standing at the entrance to my kitchen, his eyes wide on his shocked, flushed face.

His hands were clenched down at his sides and he was shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another, his eyes still fixed on the spot where the ice was melting against my throat. When I moved towards him, it broke his trance and I saw him shake and swallow roughly. Tossing the nearly melted ice cube into the sink, I withdrew another with shaking fingers, feeling a decidedly devilish impulse wash over me at the knowledge of his obvious mirroring of my own arousal.

He was as flushed and shaking and once I was within inches of his body I could feel all that heat radiating from him.

Lifting the newly acquired ice cube to his lips, I painted a wet line over them, then along his cheek bones and down his jaw. I could feel his eyes riveted on me, desperately hungry and begging for more. He quivered as I brought the ice to his throat, imagining that my lips were there, tasting the raw heat of his skin. When I brought the ice cube back to his lips, they parted beneath my touch, sucking around the small block and the tips of my fingers. I shivered as his tongue moved to lap at the liquid as it dripped over my fingers and I found that already the softness of his mouth felt familiar even as it sent waves of excitement flowing throughout my body.

As his mouth grew bolder, he sucked the ice cube into his mouth and drew my fingers in deeper, sweeping his tongue over my finger as I stood there, breathless and afraid to move for fear the pleasure would come to an end. I tried to remember how it had become this, how his flirtatious games had evolved to the point that I was flushed with arousal as he sucked ardently on my fingers in my kitchen.

When finally he released my finger with a resounding 'pop,' I felt his hand taking the cup of ice from my hand as his other hand came to my shoulder, pushing me back hard against the wall and brought his body flush with mine. I gasped for breath as he took out an ice cube and set the glass on the counter. I could feel his excitement, hard and hot pressing into my hips insistently as his fingers brought the ice cube to my forehead first, then dragged it down the middle of my nose and brought the ice to my lips, teasing there for only a few moments before he trailed the ice down my chin edging over my throat so slowly that I was quivering by the time it hit the collar of my shirt.

His free hand came up to cup my face then, tilting my eyes up towards him as he brought the ice around to the base of my neck, sliding down over my spin, leaving a trail of wet on my t-shirt. My back arched with I felt his fingers sliding their way under my t-shirt . His breath was burning hot of my mouth and I struggled to meet his eyes as the ice made contact with the skin of my lower back. "Booth, I…." was all that managed to escape my lips as the cool wet trail raced along the muscles of my back, sending my hips crashing expectantly against his.

The hand on my cheek moved to bring his thumb to my lips, gently teasing until my mouth allowed him entrance, spreading only enough to allow him to feel the wetness there. His thumb rolled over my lip several times before I puckered my lips around it, sucking it in gently until I heard him moaning in response.

Suddenly, the ice dropped from his fingers and I felt it slip down the back of my pants. The surprise of the icy cold on my ass made me leap upright, breaking his hold on me for a moment, but his hands came back in a moment bringing with them his lips. He kissed my forehead first, roughly whispering, "Bones," as he lingered there, as I drank in the heady scent of his spicy cologne.

Then his face lowered, until our eyes and our lips were aligned and I could feel him devouring every detail of my face. His warm breath, smelling of coffee and breakfast and sweetness, was rolling over my skin, immersing me in his scent and I felt the words slip from my mouth before I even knew what they were. "Is this because of the pie?"

The low laugh that rumbled from his throat surprised me and sent my heart racing in my chest. He brought his face to the side of mine, wrapping me in his arms as he whispered into my neck, "Of course it's because of the pie."

His lips found my neck then, sucking gently for a long moment before moving upwards, seemingly realizing that he hadn't quite succeeded in what he'd been about to do before my impertinent comment. In a single breath, his lips skimmed over my chin and cheeks to my lips capturing them as his hand raked lines of pleasure down my back. My hands came around him then, finding the muscles of his back and shoulders, tugging him more tightly against me. I felt his thigh wedge between my own, pressing up against my hot center and nearly lifting me from the ground as his tongue found mine, not a trace of the cold from the ice to be found.

Finally, I dragged my lips from his, looking up into his dark brown eyes as I struggled to catch my breath and tried to still my hands. "Booth, I don't know… if I'm…" The words wouldn't come to me and as his eyes searched my face, I knew he couldn't speak either.

Our bodies were literally humming together and the intensity of it was far greater than this morning overwhelming dream and we were both still fully clothed. I let my eyes fall shut, my head falling back against the wall as I took a deep breath, fighting desperately for my composure.

"Bones… I don't know what came over me," he lied, his voice cracking and hoarse.

"I do."

His eyebrows raised and he looked at me expectantly, every inch of his body still pressing to mine. Carefully, I rolled my hips against where his thigh was still pressed against my heated center, and he bit down on his lip, too late to restrain his moan. I laughed softly and brought a hand to his face. "You don't still want to go out of that chocolate you were talking about earlier, do you?"

"The Lucy?" he squeaked as my hand trailed down his throat and over his chest.

"I have no idea what that means, but I'm really hoping you don't mind if we stay in for the evening…"

End Note: I know, I'm evil. But more is coming. One hint: She's not done teasing him…

Suggestions are welcome. Brennan really really wants to drive him crazy….


	3. Hunger

He was as flushed and shaking and once I was within inches of his body I could feel all that heat radiating from him

**Saturday: Hunger**

**Rating:** MA/NC-17

**Pairing: **Brennan/Booth

**Spoilers/Warnings: **none here

**Disclaimer:** These characters do not belong to me, nor does the diner or any other recognizable stories or back plots. I do not know the people who make Bones and they don't know me. No copyright infringement intended.

**Summary:** Exploration through taste

I chuckled as her lips descended on mine, sealing off the sound. My lips opened in response, surprised when she followed me, sighing against my mouth then sinking until our lips were sliding, our head tilting to seek new angles. They clung together as I felt her hips rolling against me, the heat of her penetrating my heavy jeans.

Any uncertainty I had brought with me when I came to her door was erased as I felt those nimble fingertips curling against my chest, dragging their way over my rib cage sending tremors through my body. Already my own fingers had found their way under her t-shirt as we'd kissed, finding the smooth texture of her spine and waist. She groaned into my mouth and I was tugging at her, trying to bring her closer. My fingers crept higher, dragging her shirt up until I could trace patterns on her stomach and nearly brush my hands against the undersides of her breasts.

My hips rocked into hers roughly, fitting her more tightly against the wall, causing her to withdraw from my lips to let out a breathy gasp that nearly formed my name. Then came words, spilled in a whisper against my ear, raking electricity through my body, "I dreamed about you… about this… that's why I called you this morning."

Her head fell back, eye closed, as she rippled with excitement at whatever she was remembering. I watched that full bodied flush rise up to her face, my hands teasing their was up her back to play with the clasp of her bra as she continued, breathless, "It was like this… hot… you pinned me against a goddamn wall and we kissed… exploring the taste of each other. Like the pie. Earlier. I couldn't stop seeing it, your tongue…"

My lips found her neck as her fingers curled around the back of my neck to encourage me to devour the flesh there where she had been drawing lines with her ice earlier. Sucking lightly, my tongue found the lines of the taut muscle there, reveling in the flutter of her pulse when my lips met with the inside of her collarbone.

"Take off my shirt, Booth, please… I need to feel you against my skin."

Her arms came up and I ripped away that t-shirt in a flash, my fingers completing the task of unfastening her bra in a moment, releasing those delicious breasts to my hungry view. But I come down to them slowly, feeling her fingers in my hair. Nipping and sucking at her soft flesh, easing across her collarbone then down, I felt her nails against my scalp as I drew nearer and nearer to her nipples. Her back arched as I hovered over her light brown nipples, thrusting her breasts towards me, the peaks teasing at my lips, but still I resisted, letting my breath tease them until finally she dragged my head towards them with a low growl. "Don't tease me, Booth."

Sucking at the nipple she'd thrust into my mouth, I drew it out, stretching and teasing at it with the tip of my tongue. My hand came to the other nipple, rolling lightly circles over the tip until it was quivering under my touch. Then I began tugging and teasing it in rhythm with my mouth, delighting in the roll of her hips against me. When my teeth scraped lightly over the surface of her nipple, more words escaped her mouth, sending shivers down my spine as her hands came to my shoulders. "Oh—my pants… I need to be naked against you."

I'm not certain whether it was her or me that shook more as my fingers found the fly of her jeans, unfastening them quickly but then easing them down slowly, kneeling down to watch as each creamy inch of her soft pink flesh was exposed to my hungry eyes. Her hands were still at my shoulders as I brought my lips to her navel, sucking lightly at the sweet spot. I raced a trail of quick, nibbling kisses down the lower portion of her stomach, teasing kisses around the edges of the auburn curls at the apex of her thighs. My fingers found her thighs, teasing their way up to her hips as I inhaled the scent of her arousal.

I wondered now, as my lips came to suck at the insides of her quivering thighs, if she'd been this wet this morning when she'd been sitting so close. The hot, glowing pink flesh there seemed to match the delectable hue I'd seen on those cheekbones this morning and I groaned against her with the knowledge that I was probably correct.

The fingers in my hair were growing increasingly impatient, scraping nails over the rims of my ears and raking back through the short strands. In awe, I watched those silky thighs spread for me, allowing my lingering kisses to go further, finding the sensitive skin which had been hidden just moments before.

Bringing one hand up to her stomach to steady the slow, rolling motion of her hips, I brought the other down her thigh slowly over the tops, teasing at her kneecaps before sliding between her thighs and up, lightly brushing until they easing over slick folds. They hovered near the surface, just close enough to feel the heat and the wetness, sliding back and forth over the full length of those swollen pink lips. I could see the hooded pink tip of her clit protruding and dragged an unsteady finger over it, delighting in the gasping sigh that my motion elicited.

"Touch me… In my dream, you put your fingers inside me and teased me until…"

The rest of her words were lost from lips when I slipped on finger into the folds, sliding along the hot, thin flesh, teasing over the entrance to her pussy, then moving back, circling around the base of her clit until I felt goose bumps growing on her legs. I tried to stand slightly, finger still tracing lines through her folds, but her hands were clenched to my shoulders and locking me down and I knew better than to fight her on this.

I brought my mouth to the curve of her hip as my fingers continued their exploration of her, reveling in her softness. I traced my tongue down the bend of her hip then up the center of her stomach to her navel once more, urged on by the panting whimpers that were floating down to me. Turning my eyes up, I found her head bent down, watching my worship of her body. Those blue eyes were boring into me, urging me to increase my slow, torturous pace.

Without breaking her gaze, I brought my fingers to her clit, sliding just one finger lightly over the tip quickly. Then again. Then again. Gradually, I added another finger and began stroking the full length of the bundle of nerves, feeling myself growing unbearably aroused. My cock was aching for release as I tugged carefully at her clit, my fingers sliding easily over the heated skin. I had to press harder with the hand on her stomach to keep her hips from bucking violently against me.

When I felt the tension begin to build in her thighs, I pulled my finger away and brought it to my lips, sucking it in teasingly, still watching those flashing blue eyes. The moment my lips closed around the tip of my finger to taste that tangy sweetness, her mouth fell open and a shuddering moan raced through her body.

"Booth… I want you to taste me… Like the pie…"

Laughter spilled from both of our lips as I drew my finger from my mouth, teasing the dampness over the tops of her thighs before sliding back into her folds. This time, I didn't stop at her clit, instead, I came back to the entrance to her pussy, teasing over the slick spot lightly, then delving in a few inches before dragging back towards her clit. My finger teased back and forth until I leaned in and slid my tongue over the hooded surface of her clit, chasing a hissed stream of, "Yes, yes, yes…." from her lips. I could feel her nails digging into my skin, blazing scrapes along the back of my neck and into my hair. I was so incredibly hard and throbbing, but there was no way I was going to have just one taste.

I brought two fingers to her entrance, sliding in gradually as my lips found the base of her clit, tugging gently. My fingers immediately spread, treading deep to find the boundaries of the inside of her, finding her to be hot and slick and tight. I began moving after a moment, tracing lines along the trembling muscles there.

Her hips began rocking against my mouth as I sucked the fullness of her clit, her neatly trimmed curls tickling at my face. The smell of her was overwhelming and intoxicating and soon my sucking became rhythmic, matching with the thrusts of my fingers into her warm depths. The pace built, and I eased my tongue over the trembling tip as I sucked more urgently. Those damn fingers were weaving in my hair and my ears were filled with the sound of her incoherent moans and murmurs from above. I could feel her eyes still on me, hungry and I knew that flush was cloaking every inch of her skin.

The tremors inside of her were building when I drove a third finger into her, pressing deeper, circling her cervix and curling my fingers towards my face from inside. I pressed against the bone there as my pace became fervent. Practically the only thing that kept me on my knees, not driving my painfully hard cock into her, was the heat and smell of her. This I had never imagined. Like molten lava wrapped tightly around my fingers and sucked into my mouth, deliciously salty and warm in my mouth. I managed to glance up and found that her head was thrown back and every inch of her was rising and falling with my thrusts.

With renewed fervor, I closed my teeth through my lips around her clit as I sucked, clamping and releasing the stiff nub as her hips shook. The hand on her stomach came to her hip, forcing her roughly against the wall to steady her as I sensed her orgasm coming. I drove my fingers faster, pressing with each stroke more roughly against her, feeling the quaking of her pussy begin to clench around my fingers. A cry ripped from her throat as I pulled at her clit with my mouth, dragging the barest edge of my teeth over it as her fingers dug into my flesh at the back of my neck, shaking and fervent.

The shaking subsided and I found myself being pulled upward by my shirt collar. She brought me to my feet and met my eyes before yanking me roughly against her, claiming my lips with a fierce growl. Her tongue swiped over my lips, delving into my mouth. My trembling cock was throbbing through my jeans as her hips rocked into me, molding the lengths of our thighs and our torsos together, the peaks of her nipples pressed into my chest.

Her eyes flicked over my face as her teeth closed down on her lower lip. She came to focus on my lips as she said softly, "That's the face, Booth. The pie face."

I laughed then, burying my face against her neck and bringing my hands around her to sooth the still trembling muscles of her lower back. She was grinning mischievously as she brought her hands down until they were cupping my ass, pressing herself even more tightly against my throbbing erection.

Her lips came to my ear then, brushing teasingly as she spoke, taking the last of my control with her words: "I want you to fuck me, Booth."

**End Note: ** I am that evil. But the long weekend promises to allow me to get lots of writing done… for this and other things.

This one belongs to spybarbie. It was written for her.


	4. Full

I was naked and he was still fully clothed

**Saturday: Full  
**Rating: M  
Pairing: Brennan/Booth  
Spoilers/Warnings: none here  
Disclaimers: These characters do not belong to me, nor does the diner or any other recognizable story lines, back plot, or locations. I do not know the people who make Bones and they don't know me. No copyright infringement intended.  
Summary: Exploration through taste leads to something more tactile…

I was naked and he was still fully clothed. I should have been sated and relaxed at that moment, but instead, his touch had left me hungry for more. The entire situation was completely illogical and I aimed to rectify that momentarily. Once I was done curling my fingers into the firm flesh of his ass, urgently tugging that throbbing erection into my hips. One minute more... Then I'd fix this.

My mouth was pressed against his flushed ear as I whispered, "You need to be wearing less clothing if I'm going to get what I want, Booth."

I felt him stiffen slightly against me as his cock jumped, even within the confines of his jeans. Chuckling to myself, I managed to finally drag my fingers from his ass, roughly raking their way up his sides until they found the hem of his t-shirt a few inches higher. With a quick tug, it came free from the waistband of his jeans and I dragged it up, keeping my fingers against his torso as I peeled it away. His mouth was gaping when I tossed the shirt aside and I brought my lips to his as my fingers wove their way downwards, scratching lightly at his chest and his stomach until they found the button of his jeans. His hips moved against me, driving my tongue to seek entrance into his mouth.

Once I had popped the button on his jeans, I didn't immediately go for his zipper. His prolonged torture needed to be as great as mine had been and I found my fingers tracing the thickness of his cock through the heavy denim, a smug grin spreading on my still kissing lips when he emitted a low growl in response to my touch. The hand then slid along his inseam, up and down with arched fingertips, plucking at the seam until he ripped his mouth from mine and demanded that I cease my teasing.

My mouth pushed urgently against his ear before nibbling its way down the salty skin of his neck and shoulders, as my fingers found the zipper to his jeans and tugged it down. I had to use two hands to pull the zipper past his stiff cock, which jumped eagerly at my touch. Dragging my lips down his chest as I went, I crouched, dragging his jeans down until they were in a heap around his ankles and my lips were sucking at his muscular hip. His jeans were caught on his shoes, but I deemed this unimportant as I could smell him and felt the heat of his erection so close to my face. My fingers dragged along his calves, tracing the lean muscle there.

"Bones, I think you've teased enough," he nearly growled the words down at me and I moved my eyes to him, allowing myself to examine the reddish-purple swelling his heavy cock. They traced over the veins and curves of it, lingering at the oozing tip. I moved my face closer, wanting him to feel my rushed breaths against his cock. My lips parted as my breaths grew quicker still and I had to run my tongue over my lips to wet them. A groan ripped from his throat then and I felt his hips sway unsteadily towards me, brushing that hot velvet skin against my lips, eliciting an answering moan from my own throat.

I felt his fingers weave into my loose hair, dragging lines along my scalp excitedly, but noticeably refraining from anything that might be construed at pulling. I grinned, glancing up and pulling my head back a few inches to look up him. "Do you want something, Booth?"

Pulling his lips tight against his teeth, he shook his head and I felt his fingers curling into my hair.

"I think you want me to suck your cock."

At my words, his hips once more came towards me, brushing my lips briefly, causing his stiff cock to quiver. A whimper escaped his throat, bringing a broad grin to my face as I licked my lips, imagining that I could already taste him there. Looking up once more, I was encouraged to see a flush creeping across his face and his lips slightly parted in his excitement. Those damn fingers in my hair were inching me forward with the lightest of touches until my lips were against him.

Smiling, my lips parted to allow my tongue trace along the skin as my hand came up to wrap around the base of him. The skin moved as I slowly began to slide my wrapped hand along his shaft, lifting the head of his cock to my lips to lick the tart stickiness from the tip. He moaned my name unsteadily and I sucked the tip in, sliding my hand back down his length, as he pulled me towards him. My other hand slid up his thighs and came to grab his ass, squeezing as I sucked his cock deeper, bringing the head fully into my mouth. My tongue rolled over the tip, inhaling the scent and taste of him.

His fingers in my hair were demanding more but I refused, holding steady, my tongue teasing patterns over the head of his cock while my hand stroked the rest of him. I heard him growling my name threateningly and I relented, sucking him in deeper, taking him as deep into my mouth as I could. He was salty, heavy, and smooth in my mouth and my tongue couldn't resist stroking that skin as it slid in and out of my mouth. A moan rumbled from my throat as my lips slid along the length of him with each delicious stroke. The muscles of his ass tightened under my touch each time my mouth descended on him and I could feel his cock growing increasingly tight in my mouth.

"Bones…" he hissed as his hands tightened in my hair, pulling my lips away from his cock. Licking my lips, I turned my head upwards questioning.

"Get up." The command was barely more than a growl and I fairly leapt to my feet as he released my hair. My lips immediately found his, our tongues seeking to meet nearly immediately and I marveled that he still tasted just a bit tangy, like apples, as his arms came around my waist, dragging one leg upward and clutching my ass with the other. In a moment, he had me perched on the edge of the counter and I could feel him pressing against my wet slit. The contact sent my head backwards, eyes clamping shut as a shudder chased straight up my spine with dizzying speed.

His fingers find their way to my clit, teasing over the tip before sliding down to find me wet and ready for him. When his fingers met my wetness, a grin slid over his features as he withdrew his hand to help guide him in me. I was speechless and leaning back against the kitchen cupboard when he entered me. I clutched at the edge of the counter as he pushed in quickly and easily. His cock filled me, stretching me as he began to move, his hips rocking to guide his cock in and out of my heated pussy. His lips left mine to suck a nibbling trail down my chin, claiming my throat with rough, suckling bites. Every inch of my skin caught fire at his touch as the hormones and excitement flooded me, my hips bucking eagerly to meet him. I was surprised to find my legs twined around his hips, tugging him tighter against me.

Each thrust was pushing me further back from the counter, but his hands kept me close. His mouth now refused to relinquish its hold on my nipples, tugging and sucking one then the other, leaving them heavy and aching with anticipation when left bare. He entered me again and again, his hips slamming roughly into me, the pace increasing, driving his hips to grind against my clit each time. My fingers curled tighter around the edge of the counter, digging the corners into my palms as I felt his cock meeting my depths, sending tremors along my skin and through my gut until all I could do was let my head fall back, allowing the nearly painful force of him to wash over me.

Neither of us was able to speak as we drove increasingly closer to climax. The only sounds that reached my ears were whimpering gasps and heated grunts of effort as he drew near. I could feel myself melting and trembling around him, my pussy clenching, desperately trying to take him deeper, every inch of me burning with the intensity of this experience.

His climax was prefaced by the abrupt departure of his lips from my breast, but I was grateful when they returned to find my lips. When his mouth claimed my own, his tongue delving into me, I wondered at the impossibility of the cinnamon that seemed to still linger there as I felt him explode inside of me, burning white hot inside of me. My mouth sucked ardently as his tongue, reveling in that imagined cinnamon taste as he held himself inside of me, pressed so perfectly into me as my own climax broke in a shaking, boiling quake of my inner muscles.

Our mouths lingered together, drawing slow lazy kisses as our skin cooled and he allowed himself to slide out of me. My legs dropped to swing below me and I scooted back enough to let go of the counter so I could bring my arms around his shoulders. The taste of cinnamon faded with my trembling and I found myself smiling against his kiss when I realized it was gone.

He pulled back then, a smug grin pasted on his face. "What's so funny, Bones?"

"Nothing. I just thought I could still taste that pie for a moment…"

"Are you saying I need to brush my teeth?"

"No, no. But I do think we should go out for breakfast again tomorrow…"

**End Note: **This is for spybarbie. She knows why.


End file.
